


Try To Sleep

by PacketofRedApples



Category: Alan Wake (Video Game)
Genre: M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:07:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,366
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828258
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PacketofRedApples/pseuds/PacketofRedApples
Summary: Alan is tired, he needs a day off. Luckily, he just might get one.





	Try To Sleep

**Author's Note:**

> I am gonna keep writing awful awful AW fic till somebody takes over for me!! (please take over for me)

Alan was tired, more so emotionally than psychically as he had just woken up from pretending to sleep on the motel bed. Half out of it, but still on high alert during the supposed rest. The writer shivered as the cool breeze managed to snake its way through the poorly built walls of the establishment, the cracks of the windows and the lamely installed door did not help here. At times like this he missed his hoodie, and two jackets he sported as he arrived in Bright Falls but that might have been too warm for a desert. Or so he originally thought, seems he had forgotten the low drops of temperatures at night. Perfect TAKEN infestation levels. But this was no time for that. He needed a hot shower. He needed to clean himself, and take a breather tonight. He couldn’t keep running. It was exhausting. Thoughts of his Alice kept him going, but tonight the fatigue was setting in. He needed sleep; the insomnia wasn’t going to keep him up forever.

So, with a yawn, the champion of light in an ungraceful manner dragged himself into the small motel bathroom. He undressed in no rush and then started to run the water into the bathtub/shower hybrid. When he felt it was warm enough, he finally stepped in… Great. Finally, some relief in this god damn place. Night Springs was no setting for anyone, let alone its own creator.

The water ran warm, at first far too hot, but then finally cooling down somewhat. He stood under the stream, with his head hanging, feeling his aching muscles unwind. It was pleasant.

“I missed you, writer boy.” Says the sardonic tone, the familiar voice he wished he never had to hear again—Mr. Scratch. And from the sudden feeling of fabric pressing against his own skin, it seems the bastard stepped in fully clothed into the tub. The double wrapped his arms around Alan and pulled him close against his chest, resting his chin on the other’s shoulder.

“What the hell are you doing here? “Alan fidgets slightly, before calming down and simply pushing forward from the hold, with little success. The water started to run cold and every hair on the writer’s body decided to stand.

“Calm down, Wake, it’s not like you have anything I haven’t seen plenty of times…” Scratch says, nuzzling the crook of the other’s neck. His stubble pricks against wet skin in an unsatisfactory fashion. “Well, then again, I suppose this gives me the opportunity to see things from another angle.” He pulls back, looking down momentarily. “However, learning of certain things leaves us both with sad news.” The Herald chuckles, before returning his head to its previous position, planting a light kiss onto the grump’s exposed skin.

“The water is cold.” Alan explains abrasively.

Scratch removes one hand from where it held the Champion in spot and outstretched to turn of the shower stream.

“Please, tell me you missed me, too.” Scratch mutters more so than says, it almost makes him seem upset. A trick Alan wouldn’t permit himself to fall for.

“I didn’t think I’d see you again.” It feels like a small protest of sorts. Good enough for this.

A laugh.

“So you did miss me?” Scratch’s inquiry is completely misguided, but it couldn’t be helped. Unnoticeable as ever, shadows reach out from the Herald, helping themselves to the writer’s flesh, clinging and holding, caressing. The sheer iciness that follows them doesn’t stop, it bites the skin. Leaves the writer shaking.

It’s when they sink lower from his torso that it causes a problem.

“God damn.” Alan hisses out, shutting his eyes and rolling his head back. “What are you doing?”

Silence.

Scratch, instead chooses to kiss and bite at Alan’s neck, shoulder, and cheek. He even makes a point to nibble at the writer’s ear. How pitiful it was to become putty in the Herald’s hands. He knew exactly what to do and when, of course. Doppelgangers knew too much, doppelgangers should not know as much as they do—in particular, this applies to Mr. Scratch. The Herald knew exactly how to move his hand, how to kiss and bite. t was unfair. But as pathetic as it was, it felt too good to not allow it. His hand lingered past the writer’s happy trail and rested on his now (unfortunately) throbbing manhood. Alan really feels the grin rather than sees it, reaching the corners of Scratch’s face. God damn bastard.

And then, the double picks him up – supernatural strength coming in handy—and takes him to the bed, where he unceremonially dumps the writer. Pitiful how there was no hint of a struggle from the other.

Still fully clad in his clothes, the Herald of Darkness climbs atop the mirror body, settling comfortably against it. And then…

…he actually kisses Alan.

Surprisingly, it meant more than one could imagine to the Champion of Light. He could have cried out, which he sort of did, moaning out into the mouth of his shadow self. Melting onto the sheets and letting his hand stroke the unshaven face of the double. They didn’t last long like that before Scratch pulled away.

“God, look at you, Wake. Writer boy’s ready to bend to my every whim.” It’s supposed to tease; however, it was simply the truth. Starved for non-violent contact this was all Alan could even think about now. Alice was long gone from his mind, as he simply wanted more and more from his other half. Real, other half.

“Shut up before I change my mind.” It’s understandable. It’s a simple game they play.

Scratch grins again, and it looks almost painful, but it reaches his eyes for sure this time. There’s a more than darkness there for once. So he leans in and bites that one spot behind Alan’s jaw, forcing the other to withhold a sob.

Their lips lock again. They move in since then, rocking hips against hips, Both wanting release.

Wake’s hand wandered to the expensive suit pants, the leather belt. He undoes them with a struggle but eventually frees the awaiting member.  The other, then, grasps at Alan’s legs, forcing them up and over his shoulders as he moves away from the kiss. No longer being in close proximity, no longer having the weight on him—it felt worse than he could have imagined.

Scratch aligned and pushed in, forcing Alan to recoil and tense, despite himself.

“Hey, hey… no.” A soft voice toned like talking to a frightened animal. “Relax, it’s gonna be okay.” He pulls out slightly, before rocking back in slowly. “See…?”

Alan does as told, with great effort put into it. It isn’t long before the constant moving gets him to throw his head back again, to keep crying out and grab at the Herald’s shirt. They stay like that a while, an image of grotesque desire for nobody to see. Almost disappointing how quickly Wake reaches the end of himself and comes between them. Eyes screwed shut, trembling and bitting back from making more noise than needed. Scratch whimpers as he follows suit a minute or so later, the image being more than enough.

Alan tries to catch his breath, even it out. It is when he reopens his eyes that he sees the Herald doing the same. The other man smirks at him, not taking his eyes off the writer, before moving back up again. Laying the writer’s legs down neatly.

The Champion of Light curls up into a ball, covering himself with his hands. He shuts his eyes once more, preparing to just let Scratch slip out. It isn’t what he expects when the doppelganger lays down behind him, once again wrapping his arms around the original’s body.

“Rest. There’s still a long journey through the night I have to make a living hell for you.” Scratch says into his back, leaving Alan to genuinely laugh.

“You’re such a pain in the ass.”

“You loved it just now.”

“Bite me.”

“Oh, you’d love that, too.”

Alan chuckles again before everything calms down and settles between them. From then, it isn’t long before he falls asleep.


End file.
